


Fantastic Oneshots and where to find them

by inthebeginningtherewasM



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, Ilvermorny, Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, New York, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthebeginningtherewasM/pseuds/inthebeginningtherewasM
Summary: Since I'm really excited about the new Fantastic Beasts movie I decided to release some of this creative energy fueling my overactive imagination. So here is a collection of oneshots in the Fantastic Beasts universe. Some are romantic, some are full of friendship, some are angsty, some are thrilling (I hope).





	1. # 1 Picturing it

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure how frequent the chapters will pop out but I hope you'll like them anyway. :)

Newt was mixing meat and herbs in a bucket. He had to occupy his hands and there was always so much to do inside his suitcase anyway. Some of the enclosures were mimicking the sunset outside and gave everything around him a faint glow. He was giddy. He had become used to having Tina, Jacob and Queenie in his little movable home but having his brother and Leta here was something else entirely. As much as he loved Theseus, they seemed to be destined to never quite understand each other. And Leta…well, at least there he was sure that she wouldn’t do anything to his creatures. Not with so many people around. Furthermore, he was rather sure she had changed in that aspect. He felt relieved that he had put the picture of Leta away in one of his countless drawers a while ago though. No need for explanation here at least.

The smell of fresh tea and coffee drew him back to the shed. He had purchased a little sack of coffee a while ago after his return to London since both Tina and Jacob seemed to prefer it to tea. It was a nice feeling to see that his effort was appreciated.  
Leta sat in Newt’s leather armchair talking to Queenie who balanced two cups of tea and seemed to enjoy the commotion. Jacob had placed his jacket on a crate with mooncalf feed and listened intently to Queenie and Leta’s conversation about the more boring work of MACUSA and the Ministry and seemed quite entertained. Theseus leaned against the side of the armchair talking to Tina who’d placed herself - due to the lack of more sitting room - on Newt’s workstation.  
For a moment Newt just stood there with his bucket full of smelly Graphorn feed and took in the scene. Somehow it made him happy.

Tina slid off the workdesk to give him space and gave him a little smile that made Newt feel all warm inside. That happened sometimes. Even after all that time apart and the misunderstandings and heartbreaks in New York he still felt relaxed and calm whenever Tina was near him. It was a phenomenon he couldn’t quite explain. Well, maybe there was some explanation. He wasn’t sure.

Newt took some leaves off a Dittany plant on a shelf and made and effort to wiggle past Tina when Queenie called out for him.

“Hey, Newt, don’t you want some tea?”

Even though Queenie was technically his guest here she seemed to have taken over the position as hostess. She even seemed to know the drawers where he kept his tea leaves by heart.

“Maybe later”, he smiled, sitting down on the steps of the shed to take care of the last preparation for the feed and also to be close enough to hear some of the conversation. What were Tina and Theseus talking about anyway?

Tina had resumed her position on the workstation.

“But, you know, Miss Goldstein, there are other interrogation spells. The Veritas serum isn’t the most reliable thing out there. And what about Truth shackles? Do you at least use those at MACUSA?”

Newt shook his head slightly. Of course, Theseus would launch into a discussion about work with another auror.

“How can you guys not use them? They are far more effective. I’m glad I schooled all my subordinates concerning the proper usage. And the young apprentices of course. I mean so many of my peers get married at the moment and are away on honeymoon and so no one knows when the youngsters have to step up.”

Tina seemed to agree with him about the training of the younger aurors. She didn’t get many words in on the subject though before Leta chimed in who had obviously started to take an interest in their conversation.

“How about you, Miss Goldstein? A successful auror like you must surely receive loads of proposals?”

Newt fidgeted with some ingredients. He should go. The sooner the graphorns would get their feed the better. The dittany leaves would soothe the baby’s stomach-aches.

Tina didn’t seem to bat an eye at the intrusive and most personal question.

“You know, Miss Lestrange”, her voice cheerful and light without a hint of annoyance, “female aurors stand in high regard of all their peers but don’t seem as favoured as a life partner. We are rarely on time to cook dinner for our spouse.”

She gave a low chuckle.

“So, no, there is no one in line to ask for my hand in marriage.”

Newt buried his hand in the smelly bucket.

“Well, I would marry you in a heartbeat”, he murmured, realizing too late that he had said it loud enough for everyone to hear. Heat crawled up his neck.

“I- I meant-“

He cleared his throat a few times, blushing violently.

Tina gave a pressed light laugh saving them both from a painfully embarrassing situation.

“Thank you for the compliment. You know what, Newt? If there’s no one coming forward in the next ten years, I might take you up on your offer.”

Newt couldn’t look at her. Or at anybody for that matter.

“Yes…Good…We’ll see…So, graphorns. Yes.”

He grabbed the bucket and all but ran out of the shed.

 

* * *

 

He was so stupid. Why would he embarrass himself in that way? And Tina? Surely, she wouldn’t think too highly of him now after he had just humiliated her in front of her family and some complete strangers. Even though they had strung up a shaky friendship back in New York and now here in England - this was surely a step back.

Newt tossed some pieces of meat to the graphorns and made sure the baby with the stomach-ache ate enough of the leaves.

The thing was… the thing was that he could picture it. Being married to Tina.

He could picture her in the armchair, reading, a kneazle in her lap. Waiting impatiently for him to finish cleaning up the work station and fiddling with the golden wedding band. (Or maybe she would prefer a silver one like her locket?) Their coats next to each other on a hanger, his scarf on the ground because it never stayed on the hook anyway.

Drinking tea and telling each other about their day. Strolling through the suitcase, hand in hand. He could picture Tina’s stockings hanging out of drawers because she was late for work and didn’t bother with putting them away neatly. He would visit her in the law enforcement department and make sure she wasn’t working too much and maybe steal some of her time for tea and sandwiches and a kiss or two. He would cook for her too if she had to work long hours, wondering what her favourite food was. Maybe they could do that together as well, ingredients flowing through the air, the table magically setting itself. Of course they would visit Queenie and Jacob and he would buy bread at Jacob’s bakery and maybe hold picknicks in the suitcase. They would travel together and maybe discover some new creatures and he would take her to places she never knew existed.

His flat in London would be too small, he mused. But maybe a cottage in the country? With a big garden to grow vegetables in and for the crups to hunt gnomes and enough space for the children to run around and…children, yes?

Newt saw himself and Tina chasing their children through the garden, laughing and giggling until they all toppled over each other, out of breath. Hoisting them up on his shoulders so they could pick apples from a tree and kissing Tina on the lips while the children screeched how embarrassing their parents were. Sitting in front of the fireplace, teasing each other, telling the children stories about unicorns and hellhounds and conjuring pictures out of smoke. Tiny feet and hands and faces full of freckles and red hair because it was the curse of his ancestry and very unlikely that his children wouldn’t be redheaded and fair skinned like himself. But maybe they would have Tina’s beautiful dark eyes and her accuracy at shooting spells and he would love them till the end of his days. (There would be a big fight about where their children would go to school though. Ilvermorny or Hogwarts - he knew Tina was not likely to give up her opinion on which school was better. Maybe Dumbledore could arrange a private tour through Hogwarts during the summer? Well, he would worry about that in the future.)

Newt escaped a deep sigh. All this daydreaming had taken him back into the shed where the others were standing and looking at him expectantly.

“So?”, Theseus asked and clasped his brother’s shoulder.

Newt stood shell shocked. What had he missed? Did somebody ask him a question? Oh, Merlin, had he actually said any of those things running through his head out loud again?

“We were talking about the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, Newt. What do you think?”, said Queenie, clearly reading his confused and panicked thoughts.  
Newt took a relieved breath.

“The Cauldron, sure. I’m gonna get my coat.”

He turned in circles two times before Tina took his coat of a hanger and gave it to him. Newt stared at her for a second before averting his gaze with flushed cheeks and shouldering through the little crowd to be the first up the ladder.  


Why was everybody so silent? Had he actually said something embarrassing? He bent down to close the clasps when everybody had stepped out of the case. They were standing in a small circle a few yards away, silently brooding.

Suddenly Queenie stood behind him, handing him a small ball of enchanted twine to further secure the case.

“Don’t worry, honey”, she whispered. “They just ran out of conversation about work that might interest Leta too.”

She looked down at him with a smile.

“Ready?”

Newt nodded, grateful. Queenie was such a good soul. He walked beside her over to where the others were standing.

“You know, you are probably right about the Hogwarts-Ilvermorny thing. She won’t give up easily on that one”, she whispered just before they stopped. Newt almost dropped his case, staring at her wide eyed. Had she been listening in on all his thoughts? Queenie giggled and winked at him.

Tina raised an eyebrow at them.

“What are you two whispering about?”

Queenie giggled again.

“School”, she chuckled.

“School”, coughed Newt putting up the collar of his coat so nobody could see his red, red face.

 

 


	2. Claws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Tina is pretty brave and her encounter with Newt made her broaden her horizon regarding creatures immensely. She's compassionate and can stand her ground even against her superiors when necessary. I had great fun writing this and hope you'll like it too.

They could feel the rumble even as deep as the Major Investigation Department.  
For a second Tina thought something in the evidence locker next to the meeting room had exploded but there was no smoke, no screeches from the stone birds that functioned as fire detectors in these corridors.  
The aurors around Tina shook their heads, irritated, alarmed. In case of an emergency aurors where the first to respond to a crisis and Tina gripped her wand waiting for a signal from her superior. Nothing came. No nod, no message, no anxious screams. Tina let herself relax a little.   
And then all the alarms flared up at once. Stone birds screeched, folded paper memos flooded the room and the eyes of big golden MACUSA phoenix hanging overhead blinked in angry red flashes. 

They ran up the steps in a coherent thump-thump in time with the alarms, a mass of bodies in long coats, wands drawn. Madame Piquery joined them halfway up the stairs, her face grim with lines of worry.   
“What are we dealing with, Morrisson?”  
Tina was two steps behind, listening, gripping her wand so hard, her knuckles turned white.   
“Well, Madame President, as far as my men upstairs are concerned, it’s a-“  
They arrived at the top of the steps and Tina stopped cold. Everything seemed to shrink to one spot right over their heads, collective gasps and cries from the four or five aurors behind her, fearful murmurs and angry whispers.  
“-a dragon”, Tina muttered. 

It clung to the wall of one of the upper floors, the sharp talons buried into the stone, watching the commotion unfolding on the platform. The owls that usually perched on the rails of the platform kept their safe distance, fluttering along the walls while the dragon was shooting them interested glances from haunting yellow eyes. It was covered in beautiful green scales with two horns on the back of its head and leathery wings folded at its side. Roughly 24 feet long, with his long tail curled around him. Common Welsh Green.   
“Beautiful”, whispered Tina. The auror next to her shot her a glance that definitely showed that he thought she didn’t have all her owls on a perch. But Tina couldn’t help it. Maybe the short time she had spent with Newt Scamander had changed her. No, it definitely changed her. Even if it was just how she viewed beasts and creatures. And how couldn’t everybody see what a marvel that dragon was anyway?   
That sleek and slender frame, the beautiful colours, those dark claws that looked so elegant while deadly, the snout, the tiny smoke columns coming out of its nostrils…  
Something was wrong. The more Tina admired the beast the more she felt like something was off. Wasn’t the snout a little too round for a full-sized dragon? The underbelly white instead of brown? The horns too short? Tina shook her head. She knew not enough, by far not enough about these creatures to make assumptions anybody would take seriously. Not even herself.   
The dragon roared. It didn’t sound as mighty as Tina would have expected, somewhat croaking like the dragon hadn’t used its voice in a long time or was just testing how it sounded.   
But it still spread fear in her fellow aurors hearts and voices grew loud with questions and harsh requests for instructions and the next steps. 

Queenie joined her sister on the platform. No doubt the commotion and the heaps of panicked thoughts had led her here and now she gripped Tina’s coat sleeve.   
“Oh, it’s beautiful”, she said, her eyes wide. “Even prettier than the pictures and drawings Newt showed us.”  
A smile tugged at Tina’s lips. She was glad Queenie felt the same way about the dragon and for a moment she let herself be flooded by memories of the few hours in which Newt had done his best to distract Queenie from her heartbreak by showing her around his case and telling her everything about his manuscript and about creatures he didn’t have in his case. Queenie had shown special interest in dragons, probably because their parents died of dragon pox so many years ago. Newt had launched into an enthusiastic lecture about different breeds and snout forms and wingspan and Tina had stored the memories and every detail away safely.   
“It’s so big”, Queenie whispered. “Much bigger than Newt said…” She trailed off. Apparently not only Tina felt like there was something wrong with it but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all because the dragon spit a column of fire and unfolded and refolded its wings like it was thinking about taking off, out into the unknown but far away from the tightness of the walls of the MACUSA building. Aurors all around them gripped their wands tighter. 

 

The dragon flamed before snapping at a MACUSA owl that came too close, its teeth ripping through the animal with a sickening crunch.   
Madame Piquery stood at the railing with furrowed brows motioning to the aurors gathered behind her.   
“We can’t have this dragon escape into the city”, she said grimly. “Take it down.”  
Tina’s breath caught in her throat. It felt like a big hand was squeezing her heart. She had to do something. Anything. No matter the consequences she could not let them hurt that poor creature that was clearly confused and scared because of the unknown territory and too many humans and strange noises. Why didn’t anybody recognise that? It took Tina only a split second to make a decision.   
“Teen, what are you doing? You can’t seriously think…”   
Queenie’s voice trailed off. She looked at her sister wide-eyed, her bottom lip quivering.   
Tina’s jaw was set. She glanced at her sister before looking at the dragon again.   
“I will. They’re not killing it.”  
She disapparated while Queenie thrust her arms forward as if to physically restrain Tina, letting out a sorrowful wail.  
Tina reappeared on the balcony closest to the dragon. She could feel the heat of the dragon’s body, the revolting smell of blood and raw meat mixed with a familiar reptile stench clogged her nose. Surprised and angry shouts trailed up to her, Piquery’s furious “Get her down from there” boomed through the air and a small pop let her know that somebody must have just apparated right behind her. Without thinking Tina stepped onto the railing of the balcony, holding onto it for dear life.  
It was an impossible drop. So many stories deep they lost themselves in darkness. An elevator rushing into darkness, carrying its passengers deep, deep into the belly of the MACUSA.   
‘Into the belly, that’s where I’m going’, Tina thought. She stared at the dragon that had noticed her and fixed its hypnotic look on her. The auror behind her on the balcony hissed and it took Tina most of her concentration not to shush him. But then she would have fallen. Or possibly be eaten by the dragon. 

Tina cooed softly at the dragon, reaching out for it. It was a pure instinctive reaction and a stupid one too because if she would have listened to all the alarm bells going off in her head, logic screaming at her to back down… The dragon looked at her curiously, cocking its head from side to side like an overgrown bird.   
“What are you doing up here, beautiful? Where did you come from?”  
The dragon gave an excited screech, a few owl feathers falling out of its mouth. Tina’s stomach churned. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The more she thought about it, Newt would probably have told her to back off. Never to get too close to a dragon if she was not willing to let herself be incinerated. But as long as she was up here, nobody would shoot any spells at the creature. At least that was what she prayed for.  
“Dragon, dragon, dragon”, Tina cooed in a singsongy voice. “Dragon, dragon, dragon.”  
The dragon’s head came closer, sniffing her. The auror behind her on the balcony took a hissing breath.  
“Dragon, pretty, pretty dragon.” She could feel all eyes on her, waiting for her to slip, to move, for something. Despite the stench Tina edged a little closer, her eyes on the dragon’s talons, on his teeth.   
“Dragon, dragon, dragon.”  
The dragon dug his talons deeper into the wall, holding on tighter, maybe slipping a little. For the first time Tina noticed blood spatters around the holes and something that looked like calluses around its feet. It still seemed engrossed with this new person in front of it though, a little mischievous, curious. Like a cat or a…baby.   
Newt’s voice ringed in her ears.  
“Baby dragons in general are quite curious. Their teeth and talons are sharp, so watch out when it swipes for you. But the talons are also still soft. They tend to break if met with an object too hard and will only grow harder as they grow up.”  
Tina’s mind raced. Too big even for an adult Welsh Green. White scales on its stomach. Round snout. Claws…  
Tina gasped.   
“You are a baby.”   
The dragon looked taken aback at that outburst. Quickly Tina went back at talking in a singsongy voice.  
“Baby, baby, baby. Baby dragon!”  
The dragon seemed to like that. It came closer still, flicking its long tongue at Tina.   
“Baby, baby, baby.”   
The dragon screeched happily, squaked, fluttered its wings.  
“Baby, baby, baby.”  
Tina reached out, fighting all instincts, fighting all the thoughts in her head. Clinging to the balcony with one arm she touched the dragon’s scaly head with a shaky hand. She let her wand slip out of her sleeve.  
“Baby, baby, baby. Reducio!”  
A flick of her wand, perfectly timed. The dragon squaked before starting to shrink. Surprised shouts from the platform below, faint applause. The dragon still shrank. Panicked screeching deafened Tina’s ears when it couldn’t hold on to the walls anymore, the claws too small, too soft. It had reverted to its original size which was a little smaller than an ordinary housecat. Without thinking Tina reached out, grabbing for the dragon, missed, let go of the balcony, fell. The dragon was lighter than she was, panicked calls and shouts in her ears coming from Queenie, the aurors, everybody. The baby dragon flapped its wings helplessly. There. Tina grabbed the baby’s tail, pulled it to her chest. Sharp claws ripped through her coat as the baby struggled in panic. Tina fell and fell and fell. Past the rushing elevator, a random spell wooshing past her head. To stop her fall? Tina held the baby tight. And turned.

The apparated about three feet over the platform. Bumping into several aurors, all knees and elbows, she crashed onto the marble floor. All the air got knocked out of her lungs and it took Tina a while to shake off the black dots floating across her vision, while ignoring the indignant chatter of her peers and the faces of Madame Piquery and Morrisson coming into view.   
“Well, that was certainly a sight, Goldstein”, Morrisson said, reaching for her. Reaching for the dragon more likely. She pressed the dragon carefully to her chest, still lying on the floor, feeling warm blood oozing out of several cuts.  
“Don’t touch him.”  
Tina hauled herself up, the dragon safely cradled in her arms.   
“What’s wrong with you, Goldstein? Give us the dragon”, Morrisson sneared and took a step forward. Tina stood as straight as she could, even though her head buzzed and her knees felt shaky. She could feel a hand in her back steadying her. Queenie’s?   
Tina took a deep breath. She placed her feet, squared her shoulders, feeling the need to look as strong and unfaltering as possible.  
“You’re not getting him. He’s only a baby.”  
She let her wand slip into her hand, ready to hex Morrisson if he came too close. She summoned every dark thought, all the anger she had felt when Newt had told her about creature trafficking and all the pain those beasts had to go through. She summoned every ounce of protective instinct she had, every smidge of bravery, pushed away all the fear. She thought of Newt and how he would’ve never stood down and give up a creature as she channelled all the energy and all the willpower in her body. Her eyes were blazing, her cheeks flushed, her teeth gritted.  
Morrisson stepped back, glancing at Madame Piquery.   
“Don’t be foolish, Goldstein”, he murmured, unsure.  
Tina gave a humourless laugh.  
“I’m no fool”, she said through gritted teeth. “Foolish was the idiot who thought he could hatch a Common Welsh Green in the basement and put a swelling charm on it. Why don’t you go and look for that person?”  
The baby dragon climbed out of her arms and onto her shoulders, curling his long green tail around her neck and blowing some smoke from his nostrils as if to emphasis her point. Then it yawned. It dug its claws into Tina’s shoulders and fell asleep.

Madame Piquery regarded Tina for a moment. It cost Tina a lot of strength not to falter under her look, keeping her chin up, nervously stroking the baby dragon on her shoulder.  
“Bring the dragon to the basement”, Madame Piquery said after a moment. “This “thing” is your responsibility now, Goldstein. That is until we get someone who knows where we can send it.”  
She gestured at the other aurors to make space for Tina who stood thunderstruck, bolted to her spot. From behind Queenie gave her a little nudge.   
“There is this vacant office down on the 21st floor”, Queenie said cheerily, pulling Tina along. “That’s gonna be perfect for the little fellow.”  
Tina followed her sister down the stairs, into an elevator, trying hard to ignore the stares of her fellow aurors.   
Red scoffed at the dragon but took them downstairs anyway. Tina braced herself against the metal sides, taking deep breaths, shuddering.  
They hurried along a dim lit corridor and Queenie threw open a door that lead to an empty office. Tables, chairs and broken typewriters lining the sides.  
“This will be perfect”, Queenie cheered, clapping her hands in glee. Tina buried her face in her hands. Now that they were far away from everybody, the whole weight of her actions and Madame Piquery’s words crushed down on her.   
“I’m insane, I’m totally insane. What was I thinking?”, she groaned.   
“Aww, honey. You did good”, Queenie said with a fond smile while magicking a few dusty rugs away. “You saved a dragon. A baby. Newt would be so proud.”  
Tina groaned even louder. The cuts on her chest stung a little and she couldn’t help but imagine all the things that would go wrong in the process until somebody took the dragon off her hands. Was this Piquery’s way of punishing her? For being stupid and reckless and not thinking before acting? How would she even care for a dragon? She knew nothing about them. Nothing except wing span and snout length and that freaking baby dragons had sharp claws but not very hard ones. Nothing on how to feed them or how to make sure that a moody baby dragon wouldn’t burn down the whole MACUSA. Tina felt like losing her mind.   
“What do I do? What do I do? What DO I DO?”   
The dragon startled awake at this. He gave a small moan before relaxing when Tina scratched his chin. Tina sighed.  
Queenie laughed at her and showed her a cheeky grin.  
“Relax, Teen. I know just the guy who will be thrilled to help you with that. You’ll just have to wait until his ship gets here…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, tell me what you think? I had to make up some stuff about baby dragons but I'm kind of in love with that little one. I totally understand why Hagrid loves them so much. I wish I could have portrayed Tina more badass and I'm afraid those scenes look way better in my head. The line between badassery and staying in character is thin and hard to walk. Still, I hope you like it.


	3. #3 In the bakery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea came to me when I watched this one deleted scene of the movie. I hope you'll like it. Tell me what you think.

Queenie risked a last look into the mirror before taking a last calming breath and leaving the apartment. Tina had left hours before, all busy and in a hurry like she was all the time lately. If not to give the MACUSA officials any reason to demote her again or just to occupy her thoughts, Queenie didn’t know. She tried to respect her sister’s wishes and not pry into her head even though Queenie would have loved to distract herself with her sister’s problems rather than her own. Standing at the base of the stairs she smoothed out imaginary creases in her favorite pink dress and disapparated. There was somewhere important she had to be.

 

The glass windows of the store shone in the sunlight. There was a line of customers who were queuing even outside on the sidewalk and a busy shopboy unloaded several bags of flour from a car. Everybody who came out of the shop had a content look on his face or a happy smile, clutching bread and other baked goods to their chest and hurrying along. 

Queenie took it in with proud fascination. She had passed the shop so often now but she still couldn’t get enough of the view and of the proud glimmer inside her whenever she saw Jacob’s bakery. She never went in though. As much as her heart ached for Jacob and for her to just go in there and throw her arms around his neck, there was also the knowledge that he didn’t know who she was anymore.

At the beginning this prospect had terrified her. Hearing his thoughts that didn’t hold any of the admiration or happy memories anymore, that was. She had heard it before. The clean sheets of obliviated No-Majs after the Obliviators of MACUSA were through with them. But then she’d heard his voice in her head. Glimpses of his thoughts that were loud enough that Queenie could hear them through the walls and the store front mostly concerning his bakery but radiating so much happiness that she almost walked in through the front door there and then. She had recoiled every time though, doubt clouding her decision at the last second. She wasn’t sure if she could take it, being treated like a stranger.

But today, today she would do it. Today she would walk in, stand right in front of him. She would listen to all of his thoughts, no matter how small and talk to him and laugh and she would not back out again. Today might just be the most important day of her life.

 

A bell chimed overhead when Queenie entered the bakery. Her stomach made weird little flips in time to the chiming and she was hit with a smell so sweet and lovely and homey her eyes threatened to water. There was nobody behind the counter but dim voices called from a room in the back. Queenie glanced around the store. Bread and pastries were stocked in baskets on the walls and her breath caught in her throat when she saw a few of the baked goods carefully presented in the center of the room. There were sweet pastries and frosted pastries and filled pastries… all in the shape of different creatures of Newt’s case. A Demiguise, an Erumpent, a Niffler… Queenie couldn’t help but giggle. Hope bloomed in her chest, a happy and warm feeling and she turned in circles in wonder. Could it be? Did Jacob remember? Did he remember her? She strained her ears, to pick up his thoughts, to pick up anything but there was nothing but the scuttling of boots and a few grunts from the stock room.

_One…two…three…come on, Henry…why do I always have to do the heavy lifting myself?_

Queenie laughed. Jacob’s voice. Jacob’s voice in her head. He was so close. Her Jacob. Heavy steps hurried out of the stock room.

 

And then he was there.

 

He looked just as she remembered him. Short, dark hair, a thin mustache and the friendliest face. He cleaned his hands before glancing back at his stock room, telling the boy to take a break. _Good kid._ He turned to the showroom and maybe it was just Queenie’s imagination running wild but she thought she saw a glint in his eyes. She couldn’t help but beaming at him.

_V_ _ery pretty._

Queenie grabbed her purse tighter, bit her lower lip when Jacob tilted his head, all parted lips and raised eyebrows and lifted his hand to his neck. Exactly the spot where Newt’s Murtlap had bitten him.

_I know this gal._

Queenie gasped, taking a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed at his face, her heart beating against her ribs as if it wanted to jump out of her chest to get to Jacob. There were no words in his thoughts anymore, just feelings - curiosity, astonishment, wonder, a glimpse of recognition, all swirling through his head. She took another step towards him, pressing against the counter.

_Get it together, Kowalski! Don’t stare at customers like a fool._

“How can I help you today?”

Queenie licked her lips, her mouth felt dry. She didn’t want to break eye contact, relished in the butterflies dancing in her stomach, wondering how she could have stayed away from him for so long.

“Hello”, she said breathlessly. “I’m-“

The doorbell rang and Jacob’s gaze shifted. A beaming smile appeared on his face, the words in his brain before they left his lips.

_Mildred, my love, there you are._

Queenie felt like somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over her head. She stared Jacob wide-eyed, turning around in shock.

There was a woman there. She had ashy blonde curls and wore a periwinkle blue dress that made her complexion even paler and her lips even pinker and she clutched a bag with groceries. The woman smiled at Queenie while passing her, walking around the counter and kissing Jacob on the cheek.

“I got everything for lunch, honey.”

A shudder went down Queenie’s spine and she stepped back from the counter. There were thoughts in that woman’s head she didn’t want to hear, full of pride and affection and they were mirrored by Jacob. There was a ring on the woman’s finger too.

Queenie bit her lip. Not once in all those weeks and months she would have thought…but of course, why wouldn’t he…there had been a recount of this woman in his head when he had first been in their flat even if she hadn’t found any other thoughts about her in his head afterwards. She had completely forgotten about that. She took another step back. She wanted to go. Had to go. She couldn’t deal with what was in front of her, every look, every word and thought a knife in her heart. But Jacob paid attention anyway.

“I’m sorry”, he chuckled. “That’s not how I treat people usually. How can I help you, Miss?”

Queenie swallowed, tried to smile. Failed.

“I- One of those, please”, she whispered, her voice heavy, pointing in the general direction of the Niffler breads.

Jacob’s face lit up.

“Those are my favourite”, he said. “Although I have no idea how I dreamed up that form to be honest.”

He winked at her and put the Niffler bread in a bag. Then he looked at her for a second while reaching over the counter to collect the No-maj money she had exchanged for Dragots a few days ago.

_I’m pretty sure I know you. I have met you before._

Tears almost spilled. That thought. She had been waiting for it. And now it didn’t matter anymore. Queenie clutched the bag to her chest, her eyes darting to the woman next to him, stumbling to get out of the shop.

_What is wrong? Did I say something? Please don’t go. I still don’t know…_

Every thought a dagger in her chest. She stifled a sob, reached for the door, tried to hide the tears wallowing in her eyes behind a smile when she turned around.

“I’m really happy that you got your bakery, honey.”

And with this she fled.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry. Really. I watched the deleted scene and this scenario made so much sense to me. If Jacob didn't remember Queenie, didn't remember what happened, what they had, didn't remember her AT ALL, why wouldn't he take back Mildred? He must have loved her before. He's a good guy and if she apologized and wanted him back? (She kind of looked like a washed out version of Queenie to me anyway.) I really hated doing that to them but it made sense. It made sense, dammit! What do you think about it?


	4. #4 Dragging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, peeps!  
> This one is short and not quite ready if I'm being honest. But I was thinking about writing a full-lengh Newtina AU and I wanted your opinion on this. Would you be so kind and tell me what you think in the comments? Would you read it? Because the other option would be just make this a nice little chapter and be done with it.

“Of all the stupid things”, Officer Goldstein grumbled while keeping my arm in a firm grasp. She mumbled and grumbled the whole way and for a second I contemplated to stop and make a break for it but ultimately decided against it. She looked like she could easily outrun me and I was pretty sure I had bruises from the last tackle. Hopefully I would get a better chance later.

Droplets of water on the pavement showed exactly which way we had taken and people on the streets kept looking at us funny. My jacked seemed to have sucked up half the pond and my shoes made odd splashing sounds, while still having leaves and mud sticking to them.  
Officer Goldstein didn’t look any better. Her boots squeaked and she kept taking her walkie-talkie off the clip on her shoulder to shake out the water. Her teeth shattered from the cold and if it hadn’t been completely soaked I would have offered her my jacked.

It was a bloody long walk. Even with the officer’s military march it seemed to take hours until we finally stopped in front of an old brownstone building.

A few of the windows were lit and even though some of the streetlamps were flickering and there was graffiti sprayed beside the entrance I was glad that our walk had come to an end.

The officer seemed to hesitate to go in though. She glanced at me before sighing and leaning closer to me.

“Whatever you do”, she whispered. “Be as quiet as you can. If Mrs Esposito catches us in this state, she’ll throw a fit. And I’d rather not have her nagging my ear off about cleaning schedules again.”

She made a face and took a set of keys out of her pocket. We made our way up the stairs as quietly as we could but about every second step creaked like a capuchin monkey with toothache and every time Officer Goldstein shot me a dirty look.

 

* * *

 

Officer Goldstein all but shoved me through the door and I stumbled over the threshold before righting myself and looking into the bewildered faces of a man and a woman sitting at a table and preparing what smelled like a really delicious meal.

We all stared at each other while Officer Goldstein closed the door behind us and locked it with a very final sounding _click_.

The woman at the table spoke first. She had startling blue eyes and a halo of blond curls and looked like a fashion model from another era.  

“Teenie”, she started, frowning and looking at the officer behind me, “you brought…a man home?”

That must have been the nicest way to ask _Why the hell are you showing up with a stranger on our doorstep and why are you both soaking wet?_ ever invented.

The man next to her chuckled. He looked portly but had a kind face and the amused glint in his eyes told me that he probably wouldn’t attack me to protect his mate right now. Probably. Best not to make any assumptions. I also had thought that I would get rid of the officer in a matter of minutes and we all know how that turned out.

Officer Goldstein huffed.

“This here is Mister Scamander”, she announced to the room. “He’s lost something I’m gonna help him find.”

The blonde’s frown deepened before she sighed and got up from the table.

“And why are _Mister Scamander_ and you all wet?”

I looked at my shoes. A little puddle had formed around them.

“Central Park Pond”, I murmured when it was obvious that Officer Goldstein wouldn’t respond.

The man chuckled.

“Don’t you guys know that you have to take your clothes off for a skinny dip?”

That was obviously meant to relieve the tension in the room but all it did was sending all the blood to my face. I shook my head.

“No! No, no, no, no, no! I would NEVER…”

Officer Goldstein huffed. More indignant this time.

“Well, thanks a lot”, she grumbled while opening a door to her left, which seemed to be a bathroom, and throwing a towel at my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? Like I said it's not quite finished but I don't want to keep overthinking it.


	5. Old and new

Tina felt like breaking down. The only reason she didn’t cry was probably the fact that her body had gone numb in the cold a while ago and all that would have come out of her tear ducts were little ice cubes.

“I- I’m so sorry”, said Newt beside her. He reached out for her and patted her arm sympathetically but Tina barely felt it.

“Tina- Tina, we have to get out of here.”

He pulled her away, out of the snow bank, his hand firmly curled around her elbow and then the cool nothingness of apparition.

They landed on a dark cobblestone street. Somewhere in London probably if the fog and the noise was anything to go by. The difference in temperature was a blessing and the feeling in her toes slowly returned but the numbness in her heart still grew.

Newt cleared his throat. He looked at his shoes.

“We have to go. May- maybe I know somebody who could help you?”, he offered and Tina snapped to attention.

“Really?”

He nodded slowly.

“Yes. But we have to go. His store- it’s in Diagon Alley and I’m sure he’ll close for the night soon. I’ll apparate us there if you want?”

A sliver of hope. Tina reached out and grabbed hold of Newt’s arm, glancing down at the remnants of her broken wand before they disapparated.

 

Newt discovered with some satisfaction and gratitude that there was still light at Ollivander’s. Tina had been stiff and barely responsive since her wand broke. It had been a big pile of bad luck. A faulty portkey, an ambush of natives threatened by their presence, two yetis and a unhealthy amount of snow. They hadn’t been wearing the right clothes for such an expedition and the cold had made them slow. One of the yetis had picked Tina up like a ragdoll and had thrown her several yards, her wand cracking at impact with a sickening crunch. Newt still felt the blood drain out of his face when he thought about it. But Tina was safe. Standing next to him, holding on to his coat. It was a nice feeling having her so close but he couldn’t enjoy it properly. Not when she was so hopeless and glum. Not the Tina he had come to like.

He gave her an encouraging smile and opened the door. It was warm inside and smelt like dust and paper and wood and some other things he couldn’t quite place.

“Hello? Mr. Ollivander?”

There was a rusteling and scraping and a middleaged man screeched in on a ladder. Newt flinched before giving the shop owner a small smile.

“Good evening, Mr. Ollivander.”

Tina next to him eyed the man suspiciously. He wore a faded cloak and his hair struck out in all directions. There were pieces of wood poking out of his breast pocket and something that looked suspiciously like a unicorn hair sticking to his sleeve.

Ollivander showed them a toothy grin, climbing down the ladder.

“Mr. Scamander! What a pleasure seeing you again. Ash, 11¾ inches, unicorn hair, quite bendy?”

Newt smiled and produced his wand. Ollivander knew every wand he ever sold. Which was impressive considering that he did so since twenty years to hundreds of satisfied customers.

Ollivander considered Newt’s wand and gave a dissatisfied cluck with his tongue.

“Bite marks, Mr. Scamander?”

Newt had the decency to blush.

“Errr…yes.”

He quickly took back his wand and stuffed it in his coat pocket.

“This here is my good friend, Miss Tina Goldstein”, he said, hurrying to distract Ollivander from the state of his wand.

“We- we hoped you could, well- you see what happened is…” Newt stammered and stuttered until Tina produced her wand, regarding Ollivander with a mixture of suspicion and hope in her eyes.

Her wand was in a poor condition. It wasn’t completely broken but cracked open in a nasty gash and showing the pale wand core. A piece of the handle had broken off and the tip splintered.

“Fir”, Tina whispered, “12 inches long, White River Monster spine for a core. Hard.”

Ollivander took the wand from her with soft fingers. He regarded it with open curiosity and disdain for the state it was in.

“Well, this is obviously not an Ollivander wand”, he said finally. “One of the last from Quintana perhaps? Where did you get it if I may ask?”

Tina’s finger twitched. It was clear that she was in distress and if Newt would have been a braver man he would have simply put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. But he only managed to brush his fingers against her coat and stare at her ear.

“At Ilvermorny when I was eleven, sir. We- it’s custom there that new students get to choose their wand after the sorting. Or rather get chosen. This one…they said that it had been there for fifteen years and had never chosen a student. Like…like it waited only for me.”

It was obvious that Tina was trying to hold back tears. She balled her hands to fists and opened them again, flexing her fingers before looking at Ollivander with so much hope in her eyes that Newt had to look away.

“Please…can you fix it?”, she choked.

Ollivander regarded her with sympathetic eyes. Then he sighed deeply and turned her wand around, pointing at the gash along the middle.

“Can you see that?”, he asked, “the core, here, is fractured.” Tina sucked in an audible breath. “This wand won’t produce any more sustainable magic, Miss Goldstein. I’m sorry.”

Tina gripped the counter. For a horrible second Newt was afraid she would pass out then and there but she simply took a deep breath and let out a little pained sound. Two hot tears rolled down Tina’s cheeks and she wiped them away with an angry sob. She prodded her broken wand with her finger, stroking it like a recently deceased pet, a lost friend before looking at Newt.

“What do I do now?”

 

 

The answer had been, naturally, to get a new wand. Mr. Ollivander had been patient and even over an hour later still brought boxes with wands to the counter, showing them off with unmatched enthusiasm.

_Hazel, 9 ½ inches, unicorn hair, supple_ had blown up a vase with fresh flowers and _Hornbeam, 10 ¾ inches, dragon heart string, slightly springy_ had sent a book about wandmaking flying across the room and hit Newt in the back. Mr. Ollivander didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest whenever something exploded or ripped or papers got in disarray. He just took the wand from Tina and presented her with a new one, elaborately designed and exquisitely made and one more beautiful and powerful than the other. Newt gave her an encouraging nod every time she waved a wand and a small smile when it didn’t work out. He was the one who repaired all the damage Tina did in her trials and errors and his silent encouragement and optimism started to get on her nerves.

After the newest wand ( _Larch, 11 ½ inches, unicorn hair, brittle_ ) had sent a whole lot of wand boxes off the shelves she shoved the box forcefully across the counter.

“I think- I think I need a break.”

With that she turned around and left the store.

 

Of course Tina knew that it was very bad manners to leave the store like that but with every failure it had become harder to breathe. Her broken wand seemed to weigh a ton in her coat pocket, now no longer a trusty companion but potentially dangerous. Memories flooded her brain. Her first day at Ilvermorny, the dark chamber she had to step into filled with boxes and boxes of wands, waiting to be claimed. She remembered how she was drawn to a dusty old box, tucked away on a shelf. The wand had looked dull and nothing like the complicatedly designed wands the students before her had left the room with. But it had been sturdy and solid in her hand and a soft breeze had told her that this was the wand she would yield, the wand that would make her into a real witch. She thought of the first clumsy spells she had tried, the hexes and jinxes she had shot at dummies in training and the curses she had sent at Grindelwald when she had challenged him in New York over a year ago. Not that everything had always been perfect. She thought of the shattered plates when she had lost focus and the tortoise that never had become a tea pot and lately when her wand had seemed to become slower and only producing sparks when she wanted a stunning spell (thank Morrigan that that had only happened in practice).

She didn’t regret agreeing to accompany Newt. Even though their portkey should have sent them to Scotland and not somewhere in the far North. It wasn’t uncommon for aurors to lose or break their wands in combat but still it felt like a knife to her chest, like she had lost an arm or a leg.

Tina stopped and looked around for the first time. The fog from earlier had lifted and had given way to a beautiful starry sky. Most shops were closed now and only up the street she could see a handful of wizards and witches heading for the back entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

She stood next to the Magical Menagerie where an owl slept in the shop window, her head under her wing and a few menacing looking black rats prancing around in their cage, being eyed by a huge white cat with yellow eyes.   
Tina giggled. The first time Newt and Theseus and Leta had shown her Diagon Alley, Newt had pulled her into the Menagerie showing her all kinds of exotic creatures the shop had for sale while Theseus rolled his eyes and Leta had stifled a smile.

Tina sighed. She pulled the broken wand out of her pocket, stroking it with her thumb. It wasn’t like she wasn’t a witch anymore just because her wand was gone. The magic was in her body, the wand just an amplifier. So many witches and wizards around the world didn’t even use wands. There was nothing to worry about. Maybe…maybe the wands didn’t react because they felt that she was still hung up on her old one?

“Get it together, Goldstein”, Tina whispered. “Time to get a new wand.”

Then she turned around and walked back to Ollivander’s store.

 

There was no one in front when she came back to the store. The lights were still on but nobody was in sight.

Tina looked around the store. Briefly she considered just to step behind the counter and have a look around. Maybe find a wand herself just like she had in Ilvermorny. But she discarded that thought just as fast. They had made it very clear that this was not how they did things in England.

There was a clinking from the back of the store, tea cups put on saucers most likely. Tina strained her ears to hear low voices wound up in an almost silent conversation.

“It’s been some time that it took so long for a customer to be chosen by a wand”, Mr. Ollivander said. Another voice, definitely Newt answered something but Tina couldn’t make out the words.

Slowly she edged closer to the counter, hesitating only for a second before stepping behind the counter and peaking around a shelf.

“Maybe you could tell me a little about your friend? It might make things easier”, Mr. Ollivander said. Tina stopped breathing for a moment. She heard Newt clear his throat once or twice and a clinking of tea cups and the scraping of a chair.

“I, erm, I’m not sure what to tell you”, Newt’s voice finally sounded from the back. “Tina…Miss Goldstein that is, she...I have met many people on my travels and Tina…she is very different from them all.”

He paused and Tina swallowed, burying her hands in her coat pockets, contemplating to make her presence known but was somehow not able to move at all. Or breathe.

“She is very kind and cares so much about other people. She wants to do the right thing even if it’s not popular and she is brave, so brave, foolishly brave really. She would jump into a sea of fire if it meant protecting her friends. I don’t like that. I mean, I like it but I don’t like it. I…I think she should take better care of herself. Or let others care for her.”

Newt seemed to have talked himself into a frenzy. He stumbled over his words and Tina felt her heart banging against her ribs and heat burning in her cheeks and a lump in her throat. Never before had anyone said so many nice things about her.

“She loves her sister. I know she is trustworthy. And she is smart. And she prefers trousers to skirts because they are easier to move in. She is a highly skilled auror. She can shoot spells with deadly accuracy and she always has my back even if I’m doing stupid things and even if she judges you she will still listen to your side of the story and she likes black coffee and always eats all the green ones of Berty Bott’s Beans first. And even Theseus respects her and…and…”

For a second Tina felt like flying. A single happy tear rolled down her cheek and a low chuckle from the wandmaker interrupted Newt’s bumbling string of words.

“Thank you, Mr. Scamander. I think I get the picture.”

There was a rustling and in a minor panic Tina all but sprinted back to the door, almost tripping over a piece of wood on the floor and determined to never let anybody know what she just witnessed. She wiped her face and clutched the doorknob, opening and shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

“Hello? Newt? Mr. Ollivander?”

She tried to look inconspicuous but still couldn’t look Newt in the eyes when he came hurrying from behind a shelf, his case clutched in one hand and his ears fashioning a remarkably pink tint.

Mr. Ollivander was right behind him, smiling a toothy smile, his red hair on edge, a twinkling in his eye.

“Ah, Miss Goldstein. We just had a cup of tea waiting for you. Do you think we should continue?”

Tina nodded, biting her lip. Newt came up from behind the counter, standing next to her, shooting her glances from under his fringe.

Mr. Ollivander regarded her for a moment. Undoubtedly to try and bring what he saw with the things Newt told him in line. She tried her hardest not to squirm under his gaze.

“I’m wondering…”

He turned around and scurried away, mumbling to himself. It didn’t take long until he came back, a wand box in his hands, carrying it like it just might explode before his eyes. Gently he put it on the counter. Tina and Newt stepped closer.

“This”, Ollivander said, keeping his eyes on the box, “is one of the last wands of my father’s making in my possession. People would come to him, bringing him materials to use as a core, mostly substandard and of sentimental value – I mainly use dragon heartstring, Unicorn hair or Phoenix tailfeathers. But this here…Thiago Quintana paid us a visit once and left one of his preferred wand cores behind for my father to examine. My father used it for this wand but was never quite satisfied with the outcome. Never gave it to a customer to try. Never seemed to fit anyone. But maybe you, Miss Goldstein, might just be what this wand is looking for.”

He slid the box closer to her and Tina opened it with feeble fingers.

The wand had a warm reddish colour and was elegantly carved. It didn’t look posh or showy but somehow clean and neat. Tiny marks had been carved into the very end of the wand and the handle was slightly twisted but not too much. Tina held her breath when she picked up the wand. There was a warm feeling spreading from her fingers into her arm and her whole body, a tiny tingle as if the wand was prodding and sniffing her to make sure she was a good one, that she was worth to form an alliance with. Tina gave the wand a gentle wave, gasping when one of the purple flowers from a vase floated over and set itself onto the lapel of Newt’s coat.

Mr. Ollivander smiled at Tina.

“Well, Miss Goldstein, looks like we found your new wand.”

Newt regarded his new accessory and beamed at her. Tina felt slightly drunk on relieve.

“Cedar, 13 ½ inches, White River Monster Spine, solid”, Ollivander said, walking up to the cash register.

 

They were standing outside of Ollivanders, ushered outside by the man the second the transaction had been finished. Newt had offered to pay for Tina’s new wand since he felt it was his fault that her old one broke but of course Tina would have none of it. She counted the Galleons out of her wallet and gingerly put away the box of the new wand. It was late, really late, and now Newt was standing on the steps to the store and didn’t know what to say. Tina stood next to him, looking at the two wands in her hands, one broken, one new. It was quite obvious that she didn’t quite know how to react, to feel about the situation. Should she be happy about the new wand or grief for the old one? Newt felt a pang of sympathy, rubbing his own battered wand with his thumb.

“We could bury it, you know? It’s what one would do for a friend after all”, he said slowly, feeling utterly foolish as soon as he had spoken the words. Tina looked at him, dark eyes inspecting his face before she looked at the broken wand, giving a small smile.

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite piece of writing so far. Since there are no real infos about Newt and Tinas' wands I had to make something up. I really got into wand lore and the meaning and history of the woods and cores and length. It's a little hard to describe the form of a wand though. For everybody who doesn't quite know what to make of Tina's new wand - I imagined it to look a little like Percy Weasley's wand. 
> 
> Well, let me know what you think. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. :)


	6. #6 I wanna hold your hand

„That was an impressive patronus you conjured“, said a voice right beside her.

Tina jumped. The adrenaline that had been pulsing through her veins all evening had subsided, the smaller injuries nobody had tended to yet throbbed and simply all that had happened today made her senses numb and unfocused. She hadn’t heard him coming. 

It was a tall man with a neatly trimmed brown beard and kind eyes. Tina had seen him in pictures and read articles he’d written but never met the man in person. Albus Dumbledore. He had been Newt’s teacher at Hogwarts too if she remembered correctly. What was it he had asked her?

„Excuse me?“, she mumbled. Her brain had started to turn foggy a while ago. Pictures and questions and flashes and memories toppled over in her mind. Not sure if she would be able to maintain a conversation with Dumbledore. Yet alone a clever and charming one.

„The patronus you conjured“, he repeated and sat down beside her. „It was an impressive one.“

„Thank you“, Tina wispered. Her eyes still trailed around the room. Yeah, the patronus had been great. It had been big. Huge, really. An enormous figure of light shaped as a…Thunderbird. The new form had been a surprise if only a little one. Lately her patronus had changed shape more often than anyone thought to be possible. A cat, a dog, a porcupine, several different beasts she had seen in Newt’s magical suitcase. One had been shaped like the Swooping Evil that saved her in the Deathchamber so many months ago and had scared the auror she wanted to send a warning to half to death. It was like not even her patronus could figure out her true self and essence. What a screwup she was!

Tina gripped the sheets of the bed she was sitting on tighter. The room was buzzing with activity and urgency. The healer Theseus had apparated in almost flew from bed to bed to tend all the major wounds of their party. Queenie tried to listen to the thoughts of those barely conscious to find their most pressing injuries. Theseus disapparated and apparated bringing supplies and water. Abernathy who had been part of their little group by accident when Grindelwald’s followers attacked was now doing his best to make the old, broken No-Maj home sanitary. Even Jacob made himself useful by fetching phials and ingredients for the healer and Leta was hovering over by the bed they placed Newt in. He looked terribly grey and the bandage around his head was marked with ugly red stains. And Tina herself was just sitting here, careful not to be in anybody’s way.

„It must have been a very powerful memory that made you conjure it“, mused Dubledore beside her. Tina drew her attention away from the room. Why was he still asking about this? Wasn’t he of more use to those injured people? Tina all but snapped at him. His kind eyes were still fixed on her, patiently waiting for an answer. Why was this important? Her hands shivered. She tried to come up with words to answer his questions but there seemed to be no left. Only pictures in her mind. Faces. The smell of blood and grime on her coat and in her hair, her hands and feet going numb. A lump in her throat that seemed to grow. She felt sick. And she was tired. So tired. For a moment she considered to just let go. Maybe lean against the dirty wall of their makeshift hospital or even against Dumbledore. What had the question been again?

„Was it a very happy one?“

Tina tried to think about it. Pushed the picture of Newt out of her head where he was hit by a vicious curse cast by one of the assailants she hadn’t been able to hold off. Dementors closing in and curses that engulfed her to her very core in darkness. What memory had she grasped? Had it been one of her childhood, happy with her parents and sister? The day when the Thunderbird statue at Ilvermorny had flapped its stone wings and gave her a little family to keep her save during the schoolyear? Letters from her sister with cookies and pictures that came with the most graceful owl her grandfather had in his flock when she as homesick? The day she first had been appointed as an auror? Tina wasn’t sure. Had it been a memory at all?

„There are not many people I love left, Sir“, Tina finally said, her voice hoarse and tired. Her gaze wandering around the room once more. Queenie was whispering encouraging words to a badly wounded auror. Jacob was putting a bandage around another’s arm. She tried not to let her eyes linger too long on Newt. Not when Leta held his hand.

„To be honest, Sir, I think they are all in this room.“

Tina was exhausted. Before her eyes all she saw was blood and death and Newt’s head thrown back by the curse over and over again. Her breathing was fast but didn’t seem to draw any air into her lungs. She felt a hand stroking her back but it wasn’t Newt’s. He was still in his bed, Leta stroking his hand. But Tina wanted to be the one who held Newt’s hand. She held on to that thought.

Dumbledore asked her another question but the words didn’t make any sense. She felt like throwing up. Queenie before her. Talking to her. Talking to Dumbledore. Worry on her face. Was she slipping away? Was that why Dumbledore kept asking things? To keep her from slipping away? Her vision became blurry and dark at the edges. She had killed so many people today. Probably Newt too by not taking out that one wizard. Somebody’s voice. Newt’s bloody bandages. The walls were closing in. Somebody shoved a paperbag into her hands and made her take controlled breaths through it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. There was air in her lungs. The crinkling of the paper made the walls back away again. Leta was looking at her from across the room. Still holding Newt’s pale hand.

Finally the voices came back. All at once. Tina squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to press her hands on her ears to block out the noise, the groans of the injured but her hands still felt numb and didn’t quite what she wanted them to do. Queenie brought a pitcher with water and made her drink two glasses while saying comforting things and stroking Tina’s hair no matter how matted with blood it was. Dumbledore seemed satisfied with her current state of mind and proceeded to help the healer with closing wounds. At this point it seemed all the aurors would get through. Most of them anyway. The healer’s furrowed brow whenever she checked in on Newt didn’t exactly rise Tina’s confidence. What if he died? Because she hadn’t been fast enough? Talented enough?

„He is NOT dying“, Queenie said briskly. „And it’s not your fault that he was hit.“

Had she said that last part out loud? Tina really couldn’t say. Maybe Queenie was reading her mind again. Could she even make sense of all the thoughts and pictures? Because Tina could not. Not after taking so many lives.

„You saved a lot of lives today too, Teenie.“

Queenies voice was gentle. Her blond hair still framed her face like a halo of gold but her clothes were ripped and there was a bloody scratch on her face. She looked like a fierce angel. Tina loved her so much.

„I love you too, Teen“, Queenie said with a smile and squeezed her shoulder.

„And I’m not going anywhere. Newt’s not going anywhere either. No need to panic.“

But Tina felt like panicking again. So many people dead. Newt badly injured. No matter how much Queenie tried to assure her, the underlying fear that he would draw his last breath when she wasn’t looking made her hands shake again. It would be her fault.

Next to her Queenie sighed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Queenie motioning Jacob to come over and a moment later Jacob had Tina’s arm in a firm grasp and led her across the room. Queenie was right behind her.

They ended up next to Newt’s bed. He looked even paler than from where she had been sitting. Leta looked at them suspiciously but maybe that was just Tina’s interpretation. She still didn’t know what to think of this woman. Just that she didn’t particularly like her.

„ ‚scuse me, doll“, Jacob said and took care that Tina didn’t sway too much. Next to her Queenie moved her wand to open up the window behind Leta. „Tina needs to sit next to the window. Do you mind giving her some space?“

With a polite nod Leta stood up from her chair and offered it to her. Tina took some wobbly steps and sat down next to the bed.

The cold night air coming through the window relaxed her. It smelled fresh and clean and somewhat drove away the stench of blood that seemed to stick to everything surrounding her. A slight breeze moved the collar of her coat and a few loose strands of Newt’s reddish mop of hair not confined by the bandage around his head.

„Don’t you die on me, Newt“, Tina whispered. Now that she was sitting here some of her fear subsided. Like being near to him was all she needed to become a calmer and more focused version of herself. The room wasn’t spinning anymore.

Queenie and Jacob had taken Leta in the middle and Queenie made her drink some water. Because she wanted to give Tina some privacy or because she thought that Leta could use somebody to take care of her as well? Probably both. Queenie was like that.

Tina tried to focus on Newt lying before her again and failed. The scene at the graveyard played out in her head again. Battles all around them. Lightflashes, spelles screamed, gravestones exploding. The three men coming at them, Newt taking out one of them with a stunning spell, the split second in which Tina had to decide which spell she would use to take out both of the others - and then choosing the wrong one. One assailant went down but the other had fired his spell faster than Tina had been able to cry out to warn Newt. His head flying back. His wide eyes. The wound on his temple, so much blood spraying, so much freaking blood. She took out the goon and was at Newt’s side but she could do nothing else but trying to fend off another wave of Grindelwald’s followers. Then Theseus had been there, Leta, Abernathy on her right, so many Dementors on her other. The glowing white Thunderbird broke out of the tip of Tinas wand, fending off the darkness. And they fled, too many of their people down to have any hope of holding their position. How could Newt ever forgive her for not taking better care? After all she had done to him in the past? After all he had done for her? Her promise to herself that she would make it all up to him… Next to her Newt took a shaky breath. Coughed in his sleep. Tina pushed away the pictures. He was here. He was save. She was save. They were save. Nothing would happen to them here. Tentatively Tina reached out for Newt’s hand and held on to it for dear life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Notes? Ideas what Newt's or Tina's or Queenie's patronus will look like?


End file.
